


Technicolor

by barbarello



Category: Ylvis
Genre: Angst, Brother Feels, Letters, POV, au where everything is black and white until you meet your soulmate, for once not incest, i cried like a bitch as i wrote it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-18
Updated: 2014-06-18
Packaged: 2018-02-05 03:02:25
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 687
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1802974
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/barbarello/pseuds/barbarello
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>for additional angst u might also want to listen to "gone away" by my brightest diamond<br/>thats what i did</p>
    </blockquote>





	Technicolor

**Author's Note:**

> for additional angst u might also want to listen to "gone away" by my brightest diamond  
> thats what i did

Dear brother,

this letter here is my last desperate attempt to be a good brother, and I know you won't read it, and I know that it's not going to soothe me in any way - but I can at least try getting some things off my chest, right? But then again, rationally thinking, this could also be a way to structurize my current emotions and maybe even deal with them, so I think this is actually a good idea - and since I'm the only person who will ever read this ( _if_ will ever read this), I don't even have to be logical in my thoughts. So.

You know, my earliest memory is your hand grabbing mine and the world going terrifyingly colourful. I probably told you. It felt as if I was thrown in a middle of a rapidly twirling carousel - all senses went overdrive, everything was hightened to the last extent, the whole world broke down on me and drowned me in it, and your tiny hand was the only thing that held me grounded to the reality. Amazing, really, for a small child to remember something so perfectly clear. That something was vital, though, maybe that's the reason. I still remember how warm your hand was, I can recall it, I can picture that moment over and over in my head, and I'm sure I will. Actually, my second memory is the colour of your eyes, my favourite colour ever since. Once I actually went to Pantone website to find it, planning to tell you about it later to amuse you. Never got around to that talk, though. PMS 278. Just so you know. 

You'd laugh at me if I told you, I think. You'd laugh even more if you found out that today I painted all walls in my house in that colour - but you won't find out and you won't laugh. Yes, I don't see the colours anymore, but I find the idea of it being all around me comforting. You'd laugh at that too. I'd gave away anything to hear one more of your insulting jokes, one more mockery. Being the butt of your jokes has become a profession for me, quietly endure your exercises in sarcasm and irony from day to day. Everything is wrong, everything is wrong without you. Nobody jokes anymore around me.

A few days ago I was walking home from the store and suddenly got hit by a wave of realization. Amusing trend with us - being hit by something, isn't it? I realized that I bought you a fresh pack of coffee. I realized that I just used the shopping list that you wrote me a couple of weeks ago. I realized that I was planning to make your favourite pasta for dinner. I realized that I couldn't breathe and just stood there by the side of the road making hissing inhaling sounds, gripping bags of groceries and shaking like a punched dog. When I partially came to my senses, I could only howl and cry, and I don't remember how I got home. I don't know if I'm glad that I did.

I keep recalling small moments, and they hit me harder and harder each day. I tried to write them all down, but I couldn't, it was too much and too painful to seize them to bland words and sentences, so maybe next time.There are currently 238 of them. I'm keeping score, yes. Shut up.

Dealing with emotions and articulating them is hard. Never wanted to do it, and I don't think I'll ever do it again - you're an exception, you've always been an exception. You'll continue to be. I'll carry you in my heart, whether you like it or not, you don't have a choice but to stay with me forever, you have no say in this, you'll stay and never leave. Colours may fade, it's fine. I'd gladly sacrifice them again and again for bringing you back. I don't care for the world if you're not here with me to enjoy it. 

Look both ways before crossing the road next time, brother.


End file.
